For run number 80 the Halve Mein hashers obeyed the command of the Village people to “Go West” to the badlands of Delanson, where Comes in April was to enjoy his virgin lay with our esteemed GM Dirtbag. A look at the map and weather forecasts promised extreme shiggy, and with Hurricane Ivan depositing 3 inches of rain on the area our prayers were answered.

By noon the skies had finally cleared and a collection of the usual suspects assembled, minus Poptop (of whom more later) and of course Dr Queer’s carload. As per usual the hash’s crack medical team were running late, we’d hate to have these guys trying to save our lives in an emergency.

After a short chalktalk (short and indecipherable after the rabble had wandered over the flour) and a swift rendition of “My Name is Joe” the pack set off into the woods, hopping from one area of dry ground to another. With the paths turned into streams this activity soon became pointless and everyone just plowed through the mud and wet. An early attempt at short cutting saw Astro Homo on trail and the rest of the pack running on the wrong side of a marsh, but everyone finally found their way to the railway tracks and a beer check. With one beer. A flour covered example of that brewing oxymoron “Milwaukee’s Best”. Damn hares.

With a little zigging, zagging and circle jerking trail progressed along the tracks, past a flooded trailer park (is there a law that says trailers must get the worst of weather related phenomena?) and an attempt to swim a raging drainage ditch torrent by our heroic Francis. About half way back to Schenectady trail finally cut left and after traveling briefly on roads it was back to shiggy, shiggy, shiggy.

At this point the way was complicated by cunningly concealed trip wires and a mysterious figure. Was it Bigfoot? Was it a guard for a backwoods militia community? Was it a crazed trailer park resident washed out of their bed by the flood? Was it a Department of Homeland Security flunky cracking down on people having “fun”? No, it was CIA’s neighbor, employed to photograph our bedraggled crew. Trail continued with a lot of ducking and diving through water, until a hare was spotted to guide the pack over a raging torrent. Once more trail cut through nearly impenetrable bush (was Astro Homo secret consultant on this route?) till finally civilization was spotted (or what passes for civilization in these parts) and trail concluded chez CIA. The pack were soon gathered ready for beer, while Astro Homo and THFKAD made a splash finishing trail by swimming CIA’s pond.

Circle recognized the usual collection of criminals and low lifes: Queef and Pontius for headgear in circle, our hares, FRB McCavity, DAL Astro. Nominations for crimes were dominated by the hares (too wet, too muddy, no beer etc etc etc), but were also given to the “Phantom Bed Wetter” of Rotterdam Junction (this award was deferred until the suspect could defend himself before being found guilty) and to Poptop for breaking his arm during bizarre sexual activity and blaming a fall from a trailer. In a major upset Poptop easily won. TDJ and Pontius were made to do a double down-down for making out in circle and we all disbanded to the tune of “The Days of the Week”.

Apres hash we were treated to the delights of an upstate New York party: beer, burning furniture, volleyball, food, more burning furniture, more beer and a grand finale where all the remaining furniture was… you guessed it… burned. One non-hasher made the mistake of doing his best McCavity/ Spermbank impression (i.e. Comatose. Not pissing the bed. Absolutely not pissing the bed!) on a remaining sofa and nearly joined said furniture in the flames. Thanks to CIA for a great run and party.